InFamous: Steel Front
by The Founders of Fiction
Summary: It was a stir crazy Harold Potter, that left his relatives home, but not of his own free will. When he is attacked by a flaming man, Harold goes on the run to first find help, then answers. Somethings changed, and Harold wants to know why. Little does he know he's joined another world. A one much more dangerous than he knows. ABANDONED.
1. The Beast Is Here

**Hello everyone, my name is Darin.**  
This story is my attempt at actually writing a story on here, as I've only helped out on Oscar and Ryan's stories before.

The InFamous series is a favorite of mine, and the entirety of it sits on my shelf, One, Two, and Second Son.

This will be a crossover, but don't expect Cole or Delsin to pop up for a visit. They will be involved in the lore, and there will be references, but they won't be actual characters.

I will also be shifting up InFamous canon, as I need it to match up with the Harry Potter timeline. As InFamous Second Son took place in 2018, it now took place in 1987, where Harry/Harold was seven or so if I remember correctly. InFamous 2 and 1 now took place in 1980 as well. (I don't remember if there was a time difference between 1 and 2. :P)

In the case of the powers of Delsin, they would mostly have been the same, except for Video being less video game related, and perhaps a little more retro looking. Imagine him creating 80's movie characters with it, or blasting people with the power of TV radiation waves.

To separate my story from my friend's, my story will NOT start in book one, but book five instead.  
Just assume this Harry Potter timeline has been identical to the normal one, just up to book five.

Like I said on our profile, I will be posting a poll on our profile soon, which will be how you all can vote on whether or not Harry will be going down a Good or Bad Karma route of the story. I may also conclude some chapters with a choice, which you all may vote on in the review section. (No longer eligible, Infamous Harold goes first, then Paragon's story.)

 **(Also, in case people get pissed, THE REST OF THE STORY IS NOT WRITTEN LIKE CHAPTER ONE. CHAPTER ONE IS WRITTEN LIKE AN INTRO OR PROLOGUE. ACTUALLY READ NOTES.)**

Well, might as well get on with it.  
 **Enjoy.**

 **-Darin**

* * *

 _ **InFamous Steel Front**_

* * *

 **"I know it might** **be hard to believe,** but there were people in our world, people with powers unlike any you've seen before. They were called Conduits.

Most of them are dead now, but some still survive in hiding, as they are not safe out in the open.

More than a decade ago, an extreme explosion echoed across the United States, causing a shock wave of energy to blast around the world, it's power unbelievably strong.

The effect of it… no one expected.

Many people developed strange abilities, mainly based on what was around them at the time.

With that change, there was suddenly people wielding the powers of nature and machine, running rampant.

One such person, was a man named Cole MacGrath. He was a simple man, who had been delivering the device that caused it all, that changed the world.  
The exact story of Cole has been majorly forgotten, or changed, making his origins hard to understand.

Some variations of his story depicted him as a true hero, who defeated the wicked ones, and saved the whole of humanity from the Conduits… at the sacrifice of himself.

On the other hand, there were tales that showed him as an actual monster. They told of him killing humans in cold blood, and using his powers for evil, instead of good.

That story ended in a murky way, with rumors of Cole becoming some kind of monster that destroyed everything, but that ending was sort of hard to believe. I mean, everything is still here…

The main reason his story was undecided, and that no one remembered the Conduits… was due to a organization called the Department of Unified Protection.

Not long after Cole died, the D.U.P arrived out of nowhere, and began to take over major cities.

They hunted almost every Conduit, and locked them away inside hidden prisons across the country.

After seven years, their hold on the country ended. Their leader, Brooke Augustine was defeated by a group of three Conduits, led by a young man named Delsin Rowe, who helped me write an article on Cole a year ago.

In the end, I do not know what he and his friends did to the leader, but I do not believe it was nice. I don't know what happened to them either…

Not long after that, the D.U.P went into hiding, and everything changed once more.

For an unknown reason, the world almost completely forgot the story of Cole MacGrath, along with the entirety of the knowledge of Conduits.

I've been trying to determine what the D.U.P did to make the world forget, but I fear I might never know.

The only thing I guess I can do, is live on, and insure that their story never dies.  
In my journal, I leave the sole proof of their existence. I will hide this scrap of the story now, in the hopes that a Conduit may one day find this, and learn of their hero.

The story of Cole MacGrath must live on."  
 **-Raymond Wolfe.**

* * *

 **"Hey Josh! I found something…"** Thomas Dunn, a senior officer of the D.U.P called out to his partner. They were digging through the ruins of Seattle on their mission, when Thomas had found the damaged book. The title on the front was smudged slightly, and he couldn't quite read it.

As his partner made his way over, Thomas flipped through the book, and froze up in his place.  
He couldn't believe it… he found what must have been the last remaining proof of Conduits… Oh he was getting a promotion. He thought to himself, and would be right.

"Thomas, what is it?" Josh asked his partner, who was clutching an old, dirty book as if it was the only thing keeping him alive.

"Something that'll make our boss very happy." Thomas said, before breaking out in brief laughter.  
Later that afternoon, the most important item of literature was destroyed with a swirl of twisted glee.

And with that… the world of the Conduits was good as dead.

The entirety of their 'species' was extinct… So many died, or were reverted permanently to a normal form. "Cured."

Except for a sole few, one of whom was standing in a small home far away, on a far off country.  
Biding his time inside a small, locked room, full of broken toys.

 **There was still hope.**

* * *

 **House Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, The United Kingdom**

 **(August 1st, 1995.)**

* * *

 **In a place, on the verge of war, was a boy.**

This boy's name, was Harold "Harry" Potter, and he was the turning point in his world.  
For you see, there was another type of people in his world, one's very much like the conduits, but much older.  
The Wizards, a hidden race of people that used various tools to produce powers much like those of the Conduits, but more… specialized.

On the issue of Mister Potter, he was currently locked away inside an unsettling home on a quiet street called Privet.

Mister Potter was slowly going insane, as he worried over the fate of his people, as their only protectors was a senile old man, and his fools. Mister Potter had been stuck inside of the home, that of his unsaintly relatives, and had been attempting escape for many days… but it was only on this certain day he would.

The day had began like usual. His portly uncle had ordered him down the stairs, to tend to the household chores his family should have been doing.

Throughout the day's length, Mister Potter had done everything his relatives had demanded of him, and had been sent away to his room when the night finally came.  
It was during the fall of night, that Mister Potter got his chance at freedom, though **it wouldn't be as he would expect.**

* * *

 **Unknown to Mister Potter,** the senile man's guards outside the home, were killed one by one. The mysterious assailant, looked over the street, before feeling something it had not felt for a long time…. it felt power.

The thing looked at one of the houses, and saw a small form through one of the walls. It walked over to the house, slowly burning the lawn with each footstep.  
The thing now made it's way to the front door, and showing a sign of humanity, knocked upon the door… repeatedly.

After several more knocks, a heavy-set man answered the door with a weapon in hand.  
At seeing a threat, the thing grabbed the man's weapon, melted it, and gripped the man by his thick neck.

The man gasped as he was lifted into the air, but was simply thrown far down the street, as the thing determined the man wasn't what it was searching for.

The thing then set off inside the house, and encountered two more of the dull life sources, before finding an obstacle. It found a locked door, but it was sent into a rage, as it's quarry remained behind the door.

For the door's insolence, the thing grabbed the sides of it, and burned it to ashes.  
It ignored the screams of Mister Potter, and walked towards him with it's hand held out towards him.

It would **be the worst decision it had ever made.**

* * *

 **Mister Potter, was shocked to be honest.**

He had just been pacing in his room, when a man made entirely of fire burned through his door, and walked into his room. The man's face was almost expressionless, his eyes shined a yellowish color, along with his mouth.

Mister Potter flattened himself suddenly against the far wall, as the strange man walked towards him, his glowing hand raised to his neck.

Mister Potter was facing a difficult decision, he could attempt to run around the man and escape, but could end up trapped in the man's grasp.

He also had a different idea. His wand, the instrument of his people, lay not far off from him. He debated grabbing it quickly to strike down the man, but he remembered the consequences for using his wand outside of his school.

Making a quick decision, Mister Potter made a sprint for the wand, only to get his neck quickly seized by the stranger.

Mister Potter then began to feel steadily weaker at the man's touch, and was reminded of the effects of the keepers of Azkaban, the Dementors. He remembered how they would make him feel, like he would never feel the touch of happiness again. The feeling of this being was very similar, except a little bit different. This thing was making him feel empty, like it was scooping his soul out, with a burning hot knife…

Just as Mister Potter began to fall unconscious, he took a strong hold of his wand, and blasted the man away with the first spell that came to mind.  
Lumos, the light charm… Mister Potter isn't exactly known for being the brightest.

The man screamed in pain, and threw Mister Potter in the direction of an old, broken television set. His head and torso busted into the screen of it, and he felt a painful feeling soak through him. as old glass pierced into his skin. He yelled, as old wiring zapped at his skin, causing welts to appear from the pain.  
After enduring the slow torture, Mister Potter then pulled himself out of the broken device, and looked towards the burning man.

The man had picked himself up, and just looked at Mister Potter for a long time, before walking from the room in a brisk pace. There was still sections of his room where the fire remained, but Mister Potter just avoided them.

Mister Potter stood up on his shaky feet, and followed slowly.  
He watched after the man, who walked all the way down the staircase, and out the door.

Mister Potter descended the stairs after him, and saw the prune-like bodies of his relatives. He ignored them for the moment, and approached the open door.  
The flaming man was gone, and there was no one stopping Mister Potter from leaving.

He was expected aurors calling for his arrest, or the senile man himself coming for him, but none such things happened.

He stepped out of the house, and looked down the empty street. Each house seemed too quiet, and it made him wonder why no one noticed the insanity that had occurred in House Number Four.  
Outside on the street, it was a dark, foggy, hot night that reeked faintly of blood and death.

Mister Potter saw nothing left for him at the home, but quickly ran back inside it. Once he returned to his bedroom, he pocketed his wand, grabbed a folded black cloth, and let his owl settle on his shoulder.

Quickly, but carefully making his way back down the stairs, he chose to take the back exit of the home now. He expected anyone looking for him would come to the front of the home, and it was still possible the crazed man could return.

After he entered the back garden, he lifted the latch on the garden gate, and took a step forward. While what stood before him was just the other side of the neighborhood, it was actually the first step to something more.

What came next, would be out of his hands.

His greatest wish was to be normal… but he was going to be even farther from it.

The truth, was that Mister Potter didn't really have a choice.

This would have happened anyway, but he would have one.

He could destroy every single responsible for him being there for the attack.  
 **Including a senile man with a long beard…**

* * *

 **Did you all like it?** Let me know.

Harold (I'm probably going to call him that, but Harry might be used by his 'friends'. Expect bashing if it's Bad Karma.) is going to be a Conduit of course, but he doesn't have Delsin's power absorption ability. (While it's cool, it would be kind of useless for Harold, as there is like five or so Conduits left all together. They're all over Europe, so it's unlikely he'll meet another one, excluding mister fire.) I'm not going to write the story the exact way I wrote this chapter. (The whole Mister Potter thing.) That was just for this chapter. **(REMINDER, THIS CHAPTER DOES NOT SPEAK FOR THE FOLLOWING ONES. I'VE GOTTEN WAY TOO MANY REVIEWS OVER THE WAY CHARACTERS ARE ADDRESSED IN THIS CHAPTER. ALSO, THIS WAS BEFORE THE "DA", SO HAROLD DOESN'T KNOW REDUCTO OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. He was also panicked, thus Lumos.)**

Harold will be getting 'revenge' later, but it will depend on the Karma poll. I will post it around chapter four or so.  
Later on, once the Karma is chosen, I will give a choice at the end of certain chapters, that will decide on decisions in the next ones. (Rules of the site say no choices, sorry.)  
I guess I'm done for now.  
Goodbye then.  
 **-Darin.**


	2. The Change Is Coming

**Conduit's Note.**  
I don't really have much to say people, just enjoy the chapter, and enjoy yourself.  
Get yourself some tasty food, a comfy chair, and a warm drink.  
Once you have all of that, sit down, and read this chapter.

Since it's kind of short though, once you're finished, watch some television... or Youtube.  
I will talk to you all later.  
 **-Darin**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or InFamous. (Or Youtube.)**

* * *

 **InFamous Steel Front**

* * *

 **It was early in the next morning,** when Harold Potter arrived in the large suburban town known as Staines. Upon seeing a road sign, he figured out he had entered the village of Laleham, which was inside the town. As he walked closer into the small stone-laid village, he saw the large Thames river before him.

Harold continued his search for help, whimpering with pain, as his feet ached from the long walk.

His body bled and hurt, as his injuries from the television remained with him.  
The cuts and bruises on his skin were still paining him, and had left a mark on him from the television's glass teeth.

He was also shaking, as the icy winds bit at him, making him wish he had chosen to bring along his Dark Blue Windbreaker. It now resided in the bottom of his clothes hamper. Damn Dudley for spilling his drink on it, otherwise he would have, had it.

He searched through the village, attempting to find someone to help him, until he saw a large fire burning in the town inn. It glowed and burned with the same color as the man had been, and Harold considered it his job to help. Even though he didn't want to…

Harold ran to the large wooden and stone building, and busted the burnt door down, which didn't require much effort.  
Once he got inside, he almost died from the sudden blast of smoke that hit him in the face and started trailing into his lungs.  
He knew he'd have to hurry in the building, as either the smoke, or the building itself would kill him.

"Hey! Anyone in here? I'm here to help!" Harold called out in the inn, as he waved his arm around, while slipping his nose and mouth under the collar of his shirt.  
He moved closer to the countertop of the inn, as he struggled to breathe the stale air inside his air, and avoid the deadly air around him. After remembering he was a wizard, he pulled his wand from his pocket, and started blasting water charms at spots in the room, attempting to put out the strong flames.

After succeeding partly, he moved up the stone stairs on the side of the entrance, all while calling out for anyone to come forward.

"Anyone? Hello!" Harold called out once more, as he looked through the empty hallways of the inn, even opening rooms to see if anyone remained in them.  
They didn't.

After checking the last empty room, he left the halls and returned to the entrance, only to see the flaming man once more.  
The man stood in the entrance of the inn, seemingly looking for something, until he laid his eyes on Harold.

The man looked at Harold, and seemed to look inside his mind, his penetrating stare giving Harold a strange feeling inside his brain.

As his eyes met the flaming man's, he saw flashes of a large bright city, with fires engulfing it. He saw death, and blood… everywhere. He saw a man and a woman die next to him, and felt sorrow, but not his own.  
He then felt anger, which started to eat away at him.  
He felt the blood lust run through him, as he saw people fall dead before him, seeing the murder in first person.

After seeing more of the destruction than he'd want to, Harold finally pulled his eyes away, and found that everything was stained red.  
He turned his eyes towards the flaming man, who seemed to look upwards.

The man then aimed his right hand at one of the metal beams holding the roof up, and blasted a ball of dark red flames, which knocked the beam from it's supports.

Harold watched, as the beam dropped from the air, and fell closer and closer to the ground.  
And closer to him.

The last thing Harold saw, was the metal plating on it, as it smashed right into his skull. A loud crack echoed, as Harold's skull snapped in half.

The flaming man then left the inn, and the flattened boy behind.

 **It knew what it was doing.**

* * *

 **House Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, The UK.**

 **(August 4th, 1995.)**

* * *

 **"Severus… do you think this was Death Eaters?"** The senile old man, Albus Dumbledore asked, as he stood before the burnt and destroyed house.

The man had thought that an imaginary shield could have protected the home, but he had been 'shockingly' wrong.  
The man that had accompanied him there, Severus Snape, shook his head in irritation.

"There would have been a Dark Mark, here…. is just a burnt house, they would have destroyed it completely." The greasy haired man explained, as he examined the burn marks and injuries the house had obtained.

"Hmm… I thought so." Albus muttered, as he thought about their reptile-like enemy, and what he could be up to. He also wondered what had caused the damage, if not the once known as Voldemort.

"Potter isn't here, I say we leave. Maybe search the area… tomorrow…" Severus offered, trying to weasel his way out of wasting time searching for his tormentor's child. Even though Harold was almost nothing like James Potter, he still disliked the boy, as he reminded him of his worst memories.

"Alright then… Tomorrow." Albus said with a nod, as he turned to leave the home, unaware that they were watched by an unseen adversary. An adversary that knew it didn't like them, and knew they would be troublesome.

How was one to be a sire, **when one's offspring would be threatened**

* * *

 **Laleham, Staines, Surrey, The United Kingdom**

* * *

 _ **Ugg… that hurt…**_

Was the first thought of Harold upon waking from his painful sleep.

"W-wait? Wh-hat? I'm alive?" Harold questioned, as he struggled to sit up, only to find the metal beam lying across his body. In annoyance, he pushed at the beam, only to be shocked when it flew across the room.  
He watched it sail through the air, and smash it's way out of the inn, via wall.

"Bloody hell…?" Harold muttered, as he looked over his body. Where he expected to find a bloody, mashed up mess, his body was perfectly fine.

Instead of feeling pained, he noticed he felt re-energized, and even powerful.  
After checking his shoulders and neck, he found the cuts and bruises from the television had been patched and healed up.  
A word came to his head then, Accelerated Healing. He didn't really know what it meant, besides Healing.  
After a few minutes spent wondering about it, he decided to focus on the important thing… which weren't terribly important anymore.

He needed to find help, though he wasn't as injured as before.  
The rest of what he needed before, was anymore, so he focused on one thing.

Finding the flaming man, and getting an answer.

 _Why wasn't he dead?_

What Harold didn't know, was that he was changing.  
Every little thing about him was slowly shifting, and adapting.

His DNA was changing, and turning into a different form.  
Alloys and electricity began to run through his veins, as his heart hardened.

His brain vibrated, as shock waves jumped back and forth inside it, causing a buzzing to come from the inside of his head.

His blood began to boil, as his Red Blood Cells themselves changed, mixing with a new chemical, and causing each of them to change. They began to create something new, something strange and unique.

Each of them, changed into a brand new type of cell, Silver Blood Cells, that carried a strange chemical around his body. A chemical that would only be discovered in a new century, Eoniht.

 **The Blood of The Conduits.**

* * *

 **Did you enjoy?** I hope you did, and that you'll let me know.

Harold is changing now, and perhaps for the better.  
For his Conduit logic, he's gaining the ability of something, in a similar way that Cole did with the bomb.  
He may get different powers later, but not for a bit. (Especially since he can't copy powers like Delsin, but there is other ways to do that. Think about the transfer device from InFamous 2 as an example.) But I do have some ideas for different abilities.

Fans of InFamous should know what the 'Flaming Man' is, but it is a new version of that man.

I will say, the game where that character appears, did end with Bad Karma as the canon ending. (In the canon I'm going with at least.)

Even though that character did become the 'Flaming Man', it isn't going to be that character inside the fire. (So to speak.)

Well, that's it for now. Chapter three will come later on, but it may need to wait.  
Goodbye everyone, I'll talk with you all later.  
 **-Darin**


	3. The Hunted

**Conduit's Note.**

 **I'm back to upload this,** and it's chapter three.  
Harold is making his way through the United Kingdom, on a short journey to London.  
Normally, he could get there in a day… but he's on foot, and fate isn't on his side.

There will be developments in the story, and in Harold himself, as his power will start to grow.  
I will be revealing more parts of the story soon, so you will know which direction the story will be going.

The story will split after chapter four, but I'll explain that in chapter four. The split, will truly decide which way the entire thing will go. After I finish one Karma path, I may write the opposite path later on.  
That's all I can say for right now.  
Read, and enjoy.

 **-Darin**

* * *

 **InFamous**

 **Steel Front**

* * *

 **Brentford, Britain, The UK**

* * *

 **On a cold street corner in Brentford** , was a large lump, hiding inside of an old phone box.

Harold Potter had arrived in the british town during the cover of night, and had rested inside the phone box, to protect himself from the chilling cold.  
He had been lucky to find the old, blue, disconnected phone box, as it prevented anyone from barging in and waking him up.

When he eventually did wake up, it was bright and cloudy in the outside world. He then decided to set out on his journey to london once more, but he also realized once again what he had lost.  
Sadly, in his last confrontation with the flaming man, he had lost his father's invisibility cloak… It had fallen out of his bag, and straight into an open flame, which burned it to a pure ash pile.  
He still had his wand with him thankfully, as it was his only tool that he needed.

As he walked through the town, he tried to ignore the stares of the town's residents, who probably thought he was homeless. His clothes were covered in dirt and ash, his hair was a mess that stood on edge, and his glasses were cracked.

He ignored them, and focused on reaching the town edge, when his stomach rumbled painfully.  
He learned that day, you can't always be antisocial, as you'll starve… In despair, he turned back around, and headed for the town's inn.  
 **He could use some stew…**

* * *

 **After having to barter for a bowl of soup,** and having to briefly work as a garbage boy in order to get some bread and juice, Harold once more set off on his foot-led journey to London.

Mostly, his trip was uneventful, until night had fallen. After around a few hours, he had, had to maneuver around some wreckage on the street. He didn't know exactly why the street was covered in broken and twisted metal, and smashed rocks, but it covered the area wide.

He looked closer to the ground, and noticed that there was some strange hand grips inside the rocks. It looked as if someone climbed up the giant rock pile, and continued on the path.

Harold then made his decision, and decided to climb over the rocks. He got a good grip on the rock gaps, and pulled himself up the side of the rock, but was reminded in the process, how underdeveloped he was.

By the time he reached the top, his muscles were burning and he was unbalanced.  
It was pretty unfortunate then, as he fell forward, and tumbled down the side of rocks.

He fell down to the street before him, and smashed his body against the concrete. Ignoring the pain, he struggled to his feet, never mind the cuts and scratches on his body. After a minute or two, they healed automatically, which worried him greatly.  
He fingered where his cuts had been, and was kind of disappointed that they were truly gone.  
His ability to heal himself, only fueled his lust for answers even more.

During his journey, Harold tried to figure out what could have happened to him.  
He thought over everything he had been taught about magic over the last five years, along with anything a professor (or Hermione) had told him.  
Over all, nothing he had seen compared to what he could do now.

The only thing thing that seemed even familiar to it, was a news story he had seen a long time ago.  
He had still been at the Dursley's, and had went to get the newspaper one day, and saw a picture of an invincible… burning man.

Harold gulped then, as he realized he had seen the man before, and then wondered something.  
If he had seen the thing before, why was it he didn't remember it?

 _There is something wrong here… and with me._ Harold thought, as he strained himself to keep on a straight path down the crumbling concrete road. He didn't have any idea why, but not even two hours later, he began to feel beyond lethargic.

His feet ached and were damaged from the rough road, as his cheap trainers had been ripped apart over his journey. The fires had burned away the rubber, and the concrete paths had scratched off what bindings were left on them.

He was shaking like a leaf as well, as the wind tormented him, leaving him near frozen. He felt close to death, when he finally saw something over a hill.  
Lights…

When he got closer to the lights, he found a large city, which he would discover is a district of London.  
He had arrived in the District of Knights-bridge.  
Forty more minutes, and he would have arrived in the center of London.

Too bad, **Murphy's Law had to throw in it's two cents…**

* * *

 **D.U.P Headquarters, Unknown.**  
 **(A day ago.)**

* * *

 **It was not a good day for the D.U.P leader…**

Tybalt Mordred, leader of the Department of Unified Protection, was about to be given the worse news he could ever receive.

His day had started like on his usual routine. He had arrived at the HQ, checked for his daily reports, checked the radio feeds, along with other tasks.

Unfortunately, it was a dark day for the D.U.P, and he was staring it in the face.  
On the front page of the report his aide had handed him, was the flaming face of crazed man.

He gulped at the sight, and knew what this meant immediately.  
Another poor soul had given in, and been taken over by the powers of hell.

 _Close enough to Hell…_ He thought solemnly to himself, as he pictured the demonic looking man, known only as The Beast. He had thought The Beast would be gone after MacGrath was killed... but apparently not.

Looking closer at the face, he knew what he'd have to do.  
The D.U.P was going to come out of the shadows.

The Beast was reborn, and **Tybalt would have to kill it…**

* * *

 **Knights-bridge** **, England, The UK**

* * *

 **There, between him and Knights-bridge,** was a wall.  
The wall was made of a thick, black metal, that reflected the evening light at him.  
The wall reached high, and towered over the outer line of the city. Harold looked closer to the wall, and noticed that there was a lazy framework surrounding it, which made him suspect that it was recently put together.

As he looked over it, there seemed to be a poster placked onto the wall, which had a picture of a blue, glowing man. Written on the poster, were the words "Bio-Terrorist."

Harold wondered what that meant (The bio part, he knew what a terrorist was.), when he thought about the fact that the man had a glow like the flaming man did… kind of.

He stepped closer then, and unknowingly stepped on a small plate on the floor, which set off a loud alarm, as the entire wall began to flash with red lights.

Within a few seconds, Harold had troops of militant people surrounding him, all with guns aimed at his head and heart.  
He gulped, and spoke carefully.

"Um… I'm sure this is all just a big-" Harold began, only to be interrupted when one of the soldiers took a shot at his head, only for the bullet to ricochet off of him, and lodging itself inside the soldier's visor.  
At this, the soldiers all started to open fire, causing Harold to panic.

To the surprise of all of them, including Harold, the bullets stopped moving…

Harold opened his eyes, which he had held shut, and looked at the bullets. He noticed then, that the bullets were slowly getting closer to him, but moved when he moved his fingers.

After getting an idea, he twirled his fingers, and each bullet turned around.  
He then pushed his arms forward in a striking motion, and each bullet shot into the rifle that released it, causing them to explode.

The soldiers all were blasted backwards when their firearms blew up on them, stalling them temporarily.

Harold, now terrified, quickly ran from the wall and into the dark wilderness around him.

He ran throughout the shadowy forest, ignoring the sounds of the pursuing soldiers, or the animals that ran alongside him.

As he ran through the narrow spaces between trees to avoid his hunters, he had a quick flashback to his fourth year at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizarding.

The flashback, combined with the growing darkness only helped him to do one thing.  
 **He tripped.**

* * *

 **Harold Potter was having a bad luck spree.**  
He was now being dragged who knows where, by the soldiers that had caught him.  
They had fitted him with a pair of handcuffs, like the ones he had seen on his uncle's television. His pair though, was cutting into his wrists, which made him realize something.  
 _Actor's are so bloody lucky. Everything's fake for them…_

After pouting for a bit, Harold paid attention, as they pulled him through the city. From the looks of it, it was completely abandoned, besides the groups of military that is…

Watchtowers, and buildings, all in the shades of bees, were built up everywhere. Large groups of soldiers swarmed around, but they all stopped and watched as he was brought in.

He ignored their stares, and tried to focus on someway to escape. He tried pulling on the cuffs, only to meet pain and resistance.

It was only when they were reaching the tall tower, when he heard a faint click.  
He had just been itching his bloody wrist, when the cuffs had clicked.  
They were unlocked, and he was free.

To avoid suspicion, he held onto the cuffs, and acted like they were still attached, and to his surprise, they clicked shut again. He locked them just by pressing them shut.

Once again, he had more questions, but he figured these guys could answer him.  
When he saw a suited man, and even more soldiers awaiting him inside the tower, he was a little doubtful.

"Ah… Little Bio-Terrorist… you came right to us."

 **Yep, very doubtful.**

* * *

 **Did you enjoy? I hope you did, and that you'll let me know.**  
Yes, the D.U.P are still around, though management has changed quite a bit.

They no longer have every single soldier outfitted with powers, as Augustine isn't around to give them more power.

Harold has been taken into custody by the D.U.P, but he won't be there for long.  
The Beast will be more important later, but it will depend on the poll.  
I'll explain the poll more in the next chapter.

Harold's abilities are growing, but he has next to no control over them.  
No, it's not telekinesis, just saying it right now. Not time control either.  
It should be easy to figure out his power… Otherwise I'm going to be disappointed in all of you.  
I guess that about covers everything for now.

Goodbye everyone, I'll talk with you all later on.  
 **-Darin**


	4. The Crossroads

**Conduit's Note.**  
Well, this will be the deciding chapter.  
At the end of the chapter, I will present a set up to you all, which I will allow you to answer inside a poll I will create later today.  
Harold will be facing off against the D.U.P, and we'll see what happens.  
As you might have noticed, I write in third-person, but I mainly focus on a certain character. So, if it's Harold in the chapter, most likely I'll ignore everyone but him… unless there's needed dialogue or something.  
Well, enjoy then.

 **-Darin**

* * *

 **InFamous Steel Front**

* * *

 **D.U.P Headquarters, Knights-Bridge, England, The UK**

* * *

 **Even though Harold was trapped inside a building, a** nd surrounded by armed individuals, he knew he could escape.  
He could easily escape the handcuffs they put on him, he knew that now. He also had figured that his capturers were muggles, as they used firearms, opposed to wands.

After finishing his thought, he looked once more to the leader of the group, at least Harold assumed the man wearing a suit would be the leader.  
The man was tall compared to the soldiers, but wasn't of a freakish height. The suit was a dark grey color, that was complemented by a sun-yellow tie, that made him look vaguely like a bumblebee. The man had an expression on his face, that told Harold the man didn't like him very much.

His word choice confused Harold though, as the man had used the word Bioterrorist… Which brought back the image of the glowing, blue man on that poster. He couldn't be like him, could he?

"What? Have nothing to say? My troops said you were talking before… " The leader said, looking closely at Harold, studying him. "What's your ability then? Gravity? Magnetism? Whatever it is… I will find out."

Harold blanked at the mention of ability, before remembering all of the strange things he done. From stopping bullets, to unlocking handcuffs, and healing himself. What did he have? The leader, Mordred was interested by Harold's confused face, and was confused him.

"Do… do you even know what you are?" Mordred asked, coming to the conclusion that Harold must have just acquired his abilities. That line of thought confused him, as most of the time, Bioterrorists gained their powers around pubescence…

Harold shook his head at this, as he truly didn't know what the man was talking about, besides the fact that it concerned his power.

Mordred was about to begin, when the base shook violently, and they toppled over. After the initial shock, Mordred barked out an order to his men.  
"Find what happened!"

This was the point when Harold decided to leave, as he figured he would be safer far… far away from the base.  
He busted the handcuffs apart, and took off in the direction of the closest hallway, gunning past the soldiers that just happened to be traversing the hallway.

As Harold ran for the highlighted exit of the base, it began to collapse partly, as if something was punching it down. Columns and bits of the roof fell around him, causing him to either jump, or dodge out of the way.  
As a child, he had wished to be like Indiana Jones… we didn't want to be him anymore.  
Once he reached the blessed exit, he bashed it open, and jumped off the platform he was on. He fell through the open air of Knightsbridge, and landed atop an old building… painfully.

He had landed on his side, causing severe pain in his right arms and some of his ribs. He just layed down on the rough stone roof, and allowed the strange ability from earlier to heal his wounds.

After he was in a suitable state, he pulled himself up to his feet, and took a look at the base he had been captive inside of.

There were larges flames consuming most of it, causing the building to become a dark, burnt color. How metal could become burnt, he didn't really know… The building was in a sorry state, as it looked as if an earthquake had attacked it, and had been right under it.

Out of the corner of his right eye, Harold caught a glance of the flaming man once more, and knew what happened.  
The flaming man had helped him.

"Thanks… " He said towards the man, before turning around and walking away. At the same time, The Beast looked towards him, **and seemed to have heard him.**

* * *

 **In a castle, in a land, far… far away…** An old senile man, named Dumbledore, was sitting inside a overstuffed office. The man was digesting several pieces of artificially yellow pieces of candy, while eating more as well. He was also thinking over the situation of 'Harry' Potter, and what he had heard recently from his 'Order of The Phoenix'. There had been more destruction and fires set in Britain, and shockingly… only the Wizarding world knew of it.

From what they had observed, no muggle knew of what happened, as some group had come in out of nowhere and taken over several muggle towns.

Dumbledore's first idea, was that 'Voldemort' had somehow obtained a pyrokinetic ability, and had decided to show off.  
That idea was blown however, as he knew from Severus Snape, that Voldemort had nowhere near as many Death Eaters to work as fast as the mystery group had.  
They had also moved muggles to new locations, while Voldemort would simply kill them.

The bearded and wrinkled man thought about this, before resuming his favorite activity. Eating lemon drops, and working on The Daily Prophet's latest crossword puzzle.

 **"Hmm… what word begins with RET, and ends with RE?"**

* * *

 **London, England, The UK**

 **(Roughly an hour later.)**

* * *

 **It was with a strangely empty heart,** that Harold Potter found himself standing on a highway, overlooking the city of London.  
He had walked from Surrey, all the way to London… but he didn't really know why.  
Originally, he had wanted to seek help from Dumbledore, but he knew what would happen then.  
Dumbledore would stick him someplace, and tell him to relax, or enjoy his childhood.  
He wouldn't get a chance to learn about… whatever being a Bioterrorist meant, or how to control and use his powers.

Deep in thought, he stood alone for the busy street, as floods of cars drove past him. He ignored them however, and continued his train of thought.  
If he could control and master his abilities, he figured he could use them against Voldemort… then he wondered about something.  
Do I have to? Dumbledore had always kept him in the dark, taught him almost nothing, and told him almost nothing either.  
It was like he was setting him up to lose…

After stomaching that little revelation, he noticed something. A small group of people moving closer, and closer to him.  
They weren't the soldiers from before, but his 'friends.'

He knew they wouldn't have been able to find him naturally, so he knew something must have happened.  
After everything he had been through, he wasn't exactly ready to be tricked again.  
As they neared him, and began to call out his nickname, he thought about his choices.  
He made one quickly, hoping it would be the right one.

* * *

 *** Go with them.**  
Go along with them,  
and find out what's going on.

 *** Fight back.**  
Fight against their advance,  
and escape.

* * *

 **Did you all enjoy? Tell me if you did.**  
We all took a break during the weekend, but Oscar and I did write a little bit.  
This is the spot where the story divides. I won't have choices like this at the end, as apparently there can't be any "Choose your own adventure" stories on here, but that doesn't mean I can't take suggestions. ;)

The way this story will work, is that I have two story lines in mind, and the poll will decide.

If the result is Paragon (Good Karma), then Harold will be working with the "good" characters, and using his abilities to fight against The Beast. He will be experimenting with his abilities, and finding out what he can do. Good-Route will includea pairing, along with the Evil-Route, but they won't be the same one. (Think the relationship options for Cole in InDamous 2.)

If the result is InFamous (Evil Karma), then Harold will be working mainly on his own, and finding some new allies. He'll be working on finding out more about his abilities, and will be stronger than Good-Harold.

He will be discovering what happened to the Conduits. He will also be more aggressive than Good-Harold, and will be bashing his "friends."  
He will be gaining more abilities, but in a different way than Good-Harold will. He will uncover who the new Beast is. Dumbledore will be a enemy.

Also I should say, once I finish one story route, I will write the other one.  
Consider it to be another playthrough, but taking the path you didn't , there will be both a Paragon and InFamous story line on here.

Well, that's it for now.  
I will put up the poll soon, so vote when you can.  
The poll will be up for roughly a week (Around seven days, maybe ten.) but if one option gets seven votes, it automatically wins.

Well, goodbye.  
 **-Darin**


	5. The Fools

**Conduit's Note.**  
Well… Hello there everyone.  
I've waited for a choice to hit seven, but six is close enough.  
Yeah, I said I'd hold open the poll for two weeks or something, and now it's a month later. Sorry about that.

Well, InFamous has been the deciding vote, sorry about that Paragon voters. Eventually, I will be adding the Paragon version of the story, so anyone that have followed this story, don't unfollow. When you get an email about the story, just ignore it until I have posted something saying "Paragon now added" or something like that, as I will do it.  
Well, that's it for now. You should be able to see who Paragon Harold's pairing would be, but I won't tell you yet who InFamous Harold's pairing would be.

Just in case anyone thinks that Harold will be become the Antichrist automatically, he won't. He's going to have a reason for everything, as I plan on having both Harold's be almost identical on their first chapters (Not the chapters being the same) and the actions of others, and their feelings being what changes them. Their surroundings will define them.

InFamous Harold is just going to be a bit… frustrated and angry, and isn't going to want to just sit and listen to the people that he considered "abandoned" him to his fate. (Cough…. Order.)

The fact that he had to survive The Beast on his own, kind of pisses him off. Canon Harry (Around book 5) would have been as well, albeit a bit more afraid than Harold.  
Just like the guys, I also wanted to get this chapter out by Christmas… which I did.  
Anyway, have a happy Christmas.  
 **-Darin**

* * *

 **InFamous Steel Front**

 *** You Have Chosen To Fight Back**

 ***Infamous Route, Has Begun**

* * *

 **London, England, The UK**

 **(August 17th, 1995)**

* * *

 **Harry Potter looked at his friends with a sense of skepticism and slight contempt.**  
They moved towards him in a visible formation, not that much different from the soldiers he had seen not that long ago. The Weasley family, the family that had decided on a whim to try and replace his own, without his consent even asked. They stood front and center, and marched forward at him, trying to move at a quick pace, but not trying to scare him off as well.

At their right, was a girl he had once thought of as one of his best friends, who he could have even loved once, Hermione Jean Granger. Perhaps in another life he could… The bushy brunette had a determined look on her face, much like those of the others, which confirmed that she was in on whatever plan the redheads were in on. That kind of hurt him, as he thought she was his friend, but he had a feeling that friendship wasn't terribly important to her right now.  
Then, there was the bastard Harold felt a good bit of anger towards, mister Albus Dumbledore. The man that abandoned him each year, and did absolutely nothing to lessen the load Harold had, had to carry all of his fifteen years on the Earth.

The man that was strolling down the street towards him, his grandfather look in full force, but Harold could see the rage in the man's eyes, hidden behind the twinkle.  
He had hoped that his godfather, Sirius would have been inside the crowd, only to provide support, but the former Azkaban prisoner was nowhere to be seen. He actually felt slightly comforted by that fact though, as that meant Sirius wasn't included in whatever they were doing.

The next thing he noticed, was the instant, constricting hug he got from the brunette, who had shoot at him like a missile.

"Harry! Where were you? We were so worried…" Hermione almost screamed into his ears, causing them to ache like his anger caused his forehead. He let her linger for a second, before the rest of the mob began to berate him, Mrs Weasley began to mouth off about how it was so dangerous leaving Privet Drive, and how he should have waited for Dumbledore to 'retrieve' him, like he was a little lost dog.

He had in the past enjoyed how she welcomed him into their family, it had almost filled the hole in his heart that the loss of his parents had caused, but now it just irritated him. During the entire time that they told him off, Dumbledore just stood there, watching him as if he couldn't understand him.

Harold stared back, and avoided the man's piercing eyes, as they made him uncomfortable now, unlike how they had comforted him in the past.

"Come on young man, we're going straight to the Barrow, and you're going to tell Dumbledore what happened. There's news you need to hear, and we need to-" Mrs Weasley screeched at him, trying to take hold of his arm, only to be interrupted when something happened to her that had never happened before. Harold James Potter had slapped her.

"No. I will not be going anywhere with you. There is no way you could have known I would be here, so I know now that you're tracking me." Harold said to them, staring each of them in the eyes briefly. "So, what is it then? Tracking charm on my clothes?"

They all just stared at him, as if surprised that he had refused to go with them, before something odd happened. Harold felt a strange shock-like feeling happen to him, as a shining silver circle appeared in midair over Dumbledore's right hand. Harold watched as the circle followed the old man's hand, which made it's way into his robes.  
Harold's attention shifted then, to a metallic ring that sat on the man's ring-finger, and lifted his arm. As he focused on the ring, a strange feeling moved throughout his arm, as the ring began to shake.

After the power began to build up inside his arm, Harold let it go causing Dumbledore's ring to fly to him, Dumbledore coming along for the ride. The group of people watched as Dumbledore flew at Harold, who grabbed the man by his right arm, the man's wand falling from his grip.

"So… you were going to curse me, weren't you?" Harold asked in silent anger, as he felt a feeling of hurt, and anger at the fact that the man would attack him in front of the group, who Harold quickly suspected would have just allowed it to happen.  
Dumbledore, and the group, just looked at him in awe and slight fear, as he held the frail man in the air by the arm.

Harold looked down then, and noticed the wand that had fallen, and picked it up. It seemed like a standard wand, made of a slightly tan-ish white wood, with ridges and bumps along the edges. Harold remembered seeing the wand in Dumbledore's possession many times, and simply pocketed it for now.

"Now Harry my boy… give me back my wand…" Dumbledore ordered him, his voice trying to be a convincing mixture of stern and grandfatherly. Harold just scoffed at the use of the name, as it really annoyed him how the man was using it.

 _I might need to change that…_ Harold thought, wondering what else he could go by, while trying to avoid Tom Riddle's idea of making a title for himself. _Fuck anagrams._

"Why the bloody hell would I give you your wand back right after you try to attack me? Who do you think I am?" Harold mused at the man, before noticing everyone else had pulled their wands on him. He had a flash then, of himself deflecting muggle bullets with his skin, and wondered if that ability would apply here. It certainly was worth a try.

"You all going to stand there aiming at me, or are you going to be brave? I mean, we're Gryffindors! Take your best shot…" Harold barked out, hoping that his 'friends' wouldn't stoop to that level. One of them did.

"Let him go!" Ronald Bilius Weasley yelled out, aiming his wand at Harold head and casting a Bat-Bogey Hex at him. Harold just watched with anticipation as his skin seemed to flare silver, which caused the sickly spell to bounce straight off of him, and right back into the redhead's face. Harold actually let out a small laugh at this, but stopped as he realized Dumbledore was inching his hand for his wand. Harold made a decision then.

He grabbed Dumbledore's wand out from his pocket. and shoved it down the front of his pants.

 _Hope Dumbledore isn't gay…_ Harold thought, before focusing back on the crowd again.

"Wait a minute… Why am I still here? You wankers are attacking me, and I've got Albus bloody Dumbledore in a death grip! Talk about escalation." Harold exclaimed, before throwing Dumbledore away with a surprising amount of force. The group merely stared at him, probably still wondering over his new found abilities. Ronald was still down on his knees, attempting to fight his rabid attacking snot.

After Harold realized that being with them was relatively pointless, he just walked past them into London proper. He also chuckled as they attempted to get stunners on him, but met the same fate of the youngest Weasley male. Fifteen steps forward, Harold looked behind him, and saw each of them stunned in the middle of a busy street.

"Hilarious." Harold chuckled out, as he resumed his walk to London. He really needed to find a place to stay, preferably without wizards. Though his almost immunity to spells would take care of almost any.

 **He even had himself a new wand!**

* * *

 **Harold was surprised actually.**  
He had went to look at muggle apartments, hoping to get himself one, when he remembered that he was broke. He decided to trek to the nearest bank, as he also remembered that he had a sizable trust fund… that just happened to refill itself every year. He figured the gold had to come from somewhere, so he decided to investigate.  
Almost immediately after walking into the muggle bank, he saw an entire area of the bank, that seemed to have a huge Notice-Me-Not charm over it. (Or something similar.)

He decided to venture into the cloaked section of the bank, and discovered a miniature Gringotts hidden inside the bank, completely unnoticed by the muggles. Harold walked straight to the nearest counter, where a bored-looking Goblin sat, and raised his fringe upwards to reveal the scar he hated.  
The Goblin immediately recognized it, and sat straight up.

"Ah! Mister Potter, what can Gringotts London do for you?" The Goblin asked him, a professional look slipping onto his face, that same look being copied by Harold.

"Where does all the gold in my trust fund come from?" Harold simply asked, the bigger question he had in mind waiting for the response he hoped for. As he had never really been inside a Gringotts by himself, he never really had a chance to talk with the Goblins about his funds. That really ticked him off, as he had sudden memories of Molly Weasley borrowing money from him, to give to him. He wondered how much she was really borrowing….

"Why, from your family vault of course..." The Goblin said, as if the knowledge was a well known fact. Harold supposed it was, but still hadn't known.

"Can I open a new vault, and transfer everything from my trust fund and the family vault into it?" Harold asked the Goblin, though he figured that it wouldn't be that easy. He was sadly right.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to do something like that until you reach your maturity… If I may ask, why the sudden desire to change your vaults?" The Goblin asked him, prompting Harold to quickly answer in response.

"Because some people have access to my vaults, and I would like them not to. I would also like easier access to them. I plan on buying a house." Harold explained, stressing the word 'people,' and suddenly realizing that he would have to buy a house. He was slowly becoming paranoid, as he figured that Dumbledore could have wizards out for him, disguising themselves as neighbors. He definitely wanted a secluded, preferably hidden, home.

"This troubles me Mister Potter, if you could tell Gringotts who currently has access, we will immediately rectify this misjustice. As for your purchase of a house, Gringotts should be able to help you secure one, as it is easy to see that you are… on the run. We would be happy to help you disappear… for a price of course."

That was one thing Harold liked about the Goblins, they would charge you money for anything and everything, but they wouldn't lie to their clients. They also were extremely handy, and useful on projects.

With their help, Harold Potter disappeared off the face of the Earth… **To those looking for him at least...**

* * *

 **Did you all enjoy? Tell me if you did.**  
So… did the InFamous voters enjoy?  
Harold might not be very "evil" now, but that's simply because it's much too soon for him to change any. I mean, the change in his personality is going to be a gradual change, kind of like Cole's.

(Delsin's was sudden, and kind of stupid.)

Infamous-Harold is also going to care about people still, he won't be so evil he gives up on feelings. He won't be lovey dovey all the time, there will probably not be anything related to fluff in the route, but there will be an Infamous pairing.

Anyway, I know it was short, and I kept you all waiting for a while… but Fallout 4 is fun… :(  
In case anyone wondered what the silver circle Harold saw was, it's a reference to the targeting system implemented in the games. (The option that lets you essentially snipe your powers, and see enemy weak spots.)

The targeting system pointed out Dumbledore's ring, which was a part of Dumbledore that was weak to Harold's powers.  
By the next chapter, Harold is going to get his own place, and will be attempting to train a little bit more.  
Don't really have much more to say at the moment, besides happy holidays and all that jazz.  
Have a nice night.  
 **-Darin**


	6. The Slayer and the Amateur

**Conduit's Note.**

* * *

 **It's been awhile hasn't it folks?**  
I can explain all of our absences, don't worry.  
For the absence on Last Yokai, Ryan can't type to well with seven fingers at the moment, and one bendable arm.  
For the the absence of a new chapter of Peverell Edition, Oscar's had writer's block, and we've been busy.  
So, I'm giving you all a new chapter of Steel Front.  
For the new readers that perhaps didn't catch last chapter's note about the pairing, and the hint, I'll explain a bit more in the end note.  
Sorry the chapter's a bit short, but I didn't have much to cover, and I wanted to give you all something for now.  
(The Deadpool film is completely amazing by the way, go and see it as soon as you can. We recommend IMAX. **Not a sponsor** , but we wish we were.)  
Anyway, enjoy.  
 **-Darin**

* * *

 **Disclaimer** : Do I need to do a disclaimer, every single chapter? I mean, I've made it pretty clear that I don't own Harry Potter or InFamous, as I would have made this an official book/game/ or film already. It probably would be a flop though…

* * *

 **InFamous Steel Front**

* * *

 **D.U.P Officer's Outpost, Parts unknown**  
 **(August 20th, 1995)**

* * *

 **Tybalt Mordred, nursing an extreme headache,** sat in the office of the "fallback" station the department had set up decades ago.

The small base sat in the middle of a vacate desert that once had a vibrant city on the exact spot. Now, a ramshackle of a building stood barren, Mordred and his few surviving officers were the only occupants of the entire desert.  
The leader and his men had left Britain immediately following the loss of their prime headquarters, and had practically ran from The Beast's grasp.  
Mordred was thinking of strategy after tactic, thinking of any possible way to finish off the worst "Bio-terrorist" in existence.

He sat in the dark now, thinking over the tragedy that had burned his base to the ground. The Beast, a mythical monster that had terrorized the States before Mordred had arrived, and had held mankind's fate in it's flaming fist.

He didn't know what had stopped the creature the first time, as his superiors had been and were still holding that information from him.  
What he did know, was that whatever happened to it the first time, only killed the FIRST one.  
The man that previously held Mordred's position, Norman Neeson, had told him how The Beast came back.  
Apparently, the entity of The Beast was a supernatural force that infected Bio-terrorists, changing them from a standard form into something… horrific.

He knew of the first one's identity, Macgrath, and how he had burned his way through Empire City, and destroyed everything and everyone in the surrounding area.  
He never found out the second one's identity, as it only survived for roughly a year, but he did know that it was behind the Seattle Incident… He had been there himself, and he saw the devastation the bastard had caused, first hand.  
The sky in flames, the city overrun with flying beasts, streaks of energy raining down from the skies and killing innocent civilians. That display of monstrous power had been what had driven him to join the D.U.P… and what caused the Government to give them the green-light for Project Blank…

He dreaded facing The Beast again, but he knew it had to be stopped. Once and for all, the monster had to die.  
Only he could do it.  
It wasn't if someone else could.  
 **Not like that little bio-terrorist could ever stop stop The Beast.**

* * *

 **Farbarell Castle, The Island of Man**

 **(August 23rd, 1995)**

* * *

 **Harold Potter was thoroughly impressed** by the aged castle the Goblins had set him up in. It was a large stretch of cloaked land, bearing a large twisting forest and a deep lake around an ancient castle. The forest was specifically grown by the previous owners, and magically enchanted to lead any unauthorized intruders to a large, hidden spike pit. The wave of skeletons, human and animal, told him that the forest certainly worked well to protect the land.

When they had first showed him it, the place was looking as if it had been bombed, and been untouched for centuries. He had been cautious of the place, but the Goblins had assured him that in a few days the place would be fully repaired. They offered him board for the time, and treated him as near-royalty during the time. It certainly improved his opinion of the prestigious race, and truly ingrained him in their culture. He was also surprised to learn that during the time they worked on the Irish land, they were crafting him an entirely new identity, and constructing a specialized long-lasting glamour for him that he could remove and replace with the use of a swirled, silver ring. The metal of it was twisted like a thin wave, wrapping it's way across the finger.

The "man" they made for him was significantly older and taller than he actually was, and rugged looking. Thick blonde hair sat on his head, and curled around his face regally. His face was thin and chiseled, giving him a handsome and royal look, like that of Adonis. Overall, he thought he looked too much like a Malfoy for his tastes.

He was now known as Xavier Farbarell, a wealthy muggle Baron who had lived in seclusion his entire life, only emerging into the public now. He had been surprised by the kindness of the Islanders, who had welcomed him "back" to society. He appreciated their thoughtfulness, but was unnerved by how many older women undressed him with their eyes. He felt naked whenever he stepped into the town, and he had to constantly fight off the urge to stun some women that would get a little too… handsy.

Once the Goblins had finally finished renovating the castle, Harold found a tall, marble castle that reached far higher than Hogwarts' tallest towers. The castle walls stretched around the pristine courtyard and gardens, the tall boundary covered in sharp spikes that would surely impale any possible thieves. That is, if they could even see the castle to begin with. The entire place had an intense Stealth Ward, offering him far more protective than the Fidelius could hope to. It didn't even require a Secret, instead relying on several underground ward stones within the forest, lake, and each corner of the castle.

The inside of the castle was beyond what he had expected, and it awed him with it's beauty. It had the warmth and comfort that Hogwarts always held for him, and even held a slight bit of strange familiarity for him. It also had an architecture that reminded him of the television footage he had once seen of Buckingham Palace, which greatly pleased him. It even seemed better in a way, and made him feel special to live in such a place.  
If only his "friends" could see him now… In a luxury castle of his own, relaxing lounge built for a king, enjoying the finest food the Island had to offer.

He sneered then, and remembered what they had tried with him. How they had formed a search party for him, and had seemed willing to do anything to get him back under Dumbledore's grip. He twirled Dumbledore's pale wand in his hands then, and thought of how ironically awful their plan had become… Dumbledore wanted him in the palm of the man's wrinkly hand. Harold had the man in his less than a week ago.

He wondered then, who unstunned the Order, and when was it? He figured that they would get free eventually, and he took measures for it. He knew they would search for him, so he had the Goblins throw red herrings for the Order throughout London.  
Magical signal from his old holly wand in one part of the city, then a polyjuiced sighting of "him" on the far opposite side of the city.  
The Order was so preoccupied with the Goblins' wild goose chase, that Harold doubted he'd see any of them for a long while.  
 **He had plenty of time to himself now, and he had a lot to learn.**

* * *

 **Wood-Lane, London, Muggle Britain**

 **(9:47 PM)**

* * *

 **"Reports are still coming in about the mysterious threat our country is facing,"** A shrill reporter's voice echoed out from a large television screen on a tall roof, the station on it, covering the news that had been bouncing across the entire world so far. The news was the most interesting and terrifying event mankind had seen in recent years, as despite memories of executions and nuclear destruction, the image of a man made of fire, was firmly forged in their minds.

"The greatest minds of our country and scientists from abroad are working together to determine what this 'flaming man' is, and how exactly this being could survive. The Queen's forces are also discussing methods to take down this hellish monster of a man, as he can not be allowed to continue this unholy rampage."

It was then that the sole watcher of the news got enraged, and blasted a ray of atomic fire at the screen, melting glass, plastic, and metal down to oily slag.  
After finishing with the offending television screen, the unnatural man looked upwards, and saw a sign on the side of the building. Three letters, along with four more. BBC News glared down at him, reminding him of the news that had angered him. Another blast of hellfire then, and that entire wing of the building was blown to smithereens.

The parts of the building spared from his anger, collapsed on their own, a large experimental satellite falling off the roof and flattening the small garden below.

Seeing his slanderers stopped, the flaming man turned and walked from the destruction.

 **The Beast was definitely not on the side of the press.**

* * *

 **Farbarell Castle**

 **(August 27th, 1995)**

* * *

 **Harold had a problem…**

In the days following his move to Farbarell, Harold had been regularly experimenting with his new found abilities, and had found that he could phase his body slightly.

He knew now that whatever his "power" the bumblebee dressed man mentioned, definitely was metal-related.

Harold didn't know everything he could do with his ability, but he would discover a new use almost daily. He had found his reflecting skin ability already, but earlier in the week, he had found that he could create a stronger layering on his skin. While originally his skin looked slightly metallic, now he could turn himself nearly robotic in appearance, as his entire body turned to metal.

His current problem though, was that he had formed such a layer on his skin, but now found that it wouldn't disappear. For the last five hours, Harold had been stuck in a chrome-like form, the longest he had held the ability so far.

While he debated with himself on how to return to normal, Harold didn't notice that the stone floor that he paced back and forth on was beginning to take on the same metallic touch as Harold himself. He was technically King Midas reborn.

Harold was trapped in his mental meanderings and also didn't notice that the layer on his skin slowly started to fall off, until he found himself normal once more, with metal parts surrounding his feet.

"Oh, alright then." Harold muttered to himself, as he began to imagine what else he might be able to do… Besides get trapped that is.

He wondered then, about what else he wanted to do with this power.  
As he walked to the galley of the castle, a sudden thought came to him of what could actually be very useful to him.  
 _ **A gun would be nice…**_

* * *

 **Was it good? Bad?**

Let me know in a review if you would.

Sorry again for the short chapter, I am a terrible human being for updating now, with only a short chapter. I understand that I'm evil. :}

For the note about pairings, there is a different one for Paragon and InFamous.  
Paragon's pairing is Harry and Hermione (HHr), and the InFamous pairing is going to be a secret for now. (I actually haven't thought up an evil pairing yet, as I don't want it to be stereotypical. So, no Daphne Greengrass.)  
I'm actually open to suggestions about an InFamous pairing, (I don't mean a pairing _from_ InFamous, I mean an evil pairing) and any power suggestions.  
He already has invulnerability, magnetivity to a certain extent (He's not magneto) will have a form of Metal-bending, (Thanks Avatar!) and something similar to the ranged attacks of Cole and Delsin's.

Anyway, have a good morning everyone out there.

Good bye.  
 **-Darin**


	7. The Evolution

**Bioterrorist's Note**

So, I'm back. How've you all been while I've been gone?

I've gotten some nice feedback, thanks for that, and I've been thinking of a few things, and I've gotten an idea of where to go from here.

I'm not abandoning the story or anything, and I'm sorry for the wait. So many things have been happening, and now it's August…

The chapter isn't much, but it's interesting, I hope that's enough to curb your harsh anger for me.

Sorry about that, but I'll try to be more consistent with my updates from now on, yeah?

Well, I'm back, so hello you all.

 **-Darin**

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** Really, again? Must I say it again? Do you realize where we are? Not on the Best Seller's list, I'll tell you that.

* * *

 _ **InFamous**_

 _ **Steel Front**_

* * *

 **Garden Lily's Cafe, London, Muggle Britain**

 **(December 25th, 1996)**

* * *

 **In a small,** hole-in-the-wall cafe, on the edge of London, a visibly aged man sat at a colorful barside in a somber mood. The colors annoyed him.

It had been so long already, and he had grown weary and depressed over the results of the latest search.

He and his few remaining 'real' friends had been searching Europe, hell… even parts of the continent, just for him… The one person so tightly tied into each of their hearts and lives, who had changed all of them, and left them so broken with his disappearance.

Now, the man was spending Christmas in some strange ironically named restaurant, surrounded by Muggles… He never thought it'd happen, but it did. He hadn't been this alone since… well, '93.

He let out a breath then, and rubbed a hand across his face, feeling the harsh, thick stubble he had let grow out of contempt. He didn't care really, he had lost another one of the few things he loved on this horrible planet.

Family.

Not the maniacs he had been born with, but those that he chose. He must have been cursed however, as almost all of them were dead…

Only two were left, and he had been daft enough to let one slip away, not like chasing him in a mob would have done any good either. He still held a grudge for the Order for that, bloody idiots…

He had decided, that he was going to drink himself into a stupor, and hopefully forget his sorrows in light muggle alcohol and bitter tea. He wanted to just blend into the background, be nobody, but he felt a tap on the shoulder.

He turned slowly, and laid eyes on some preppy bloke, maybe a bit older than him, who didn't fit the bar at all. Then again, neither did he.

The stranger was dressed in a… muggle suit, and had a small pin of a silver '2' on the lapel. A red tie covered his collar, and a grey shirt rested beneath the black suit. The clothing looked expensive, especially compared to the man's ruffled and ragged winter clothing.

The stranger was blonde, but not platinum blonde like those damn Malfoy's were, but the stranger did in fact bear a striking resemble to Lucius Malfoy.

Maybe he had found a squib Malfoy? He could ruin them horribly if he spread the word.

The stranger, however just passed him a hearty meal of sliced ham and boiled potatoes, the 'Christmas Special' the cafe was having.

The man cocked an eyebrow, only for the stranger to grin wryly.

"It's Christmas, eat something. No one should drink themselves to death on this day. That comes on New Year's" The stranger joked lightly in a deep… Irish voice?

The man couldn't say really, but there was something to the stranger before him. Something… familiar, though the man didn't have a clue what exactly it was, but it was digging at his mind. He felt like he knew the stranger, but he couldn't have.

Taking the stranger's advice however, he began to eat the meal, his stomach thanking him immensely for the gift.

While eating, the man sent a questioning look at the stranger, who only grinned a crooked grin, his entire face lifting up with it. His eyes didn't match it however, but the man didn't notice.

"I'm Xavier, Xavier Farbarell. Yourself?" The stranger, Farbarell said in introduction, his gaze shifting over the man beside him before looking to his half-full drink.

The man took a second to swallow a shifty potato, before looking once more at Farbarell. The man answered warmly, before returning to the meal. He felt it wouldn't do too much harm, for one little Muggle to know his name.

"Sirius, Sirius Black."

Farbarell grinned then, as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

" **Seriously?"**

* * *

 **Farbarell Castle**

 **(September 1st, 1995)**

* * *

" **Harry Potter Is Missing…** Where In The World Is Harry Potter?... Potter Gone Rogue… Boy-Who-Lived now Menace-At-Large… Potter Elopes With Centaur Lover… " A shrewd voice read out in a stately study, a pile newspapers laid out before him.

He just shook his head at the nonsense, and threw them into the nearby trash. Only the Quibbler could have lightened his mood or reputation, but instead Luna writes an inter-species love story about him…

 _Of course she does._ He thought, not getting too angry over it, a small smile actually coming to his face. Everyone knew the Quibbler was fiction anyway, but he had a feeling she wrote that article for him, to cheer him up wherever he was. He had to thank her, if he ever got the chance that is.

Having had enough, Harold James Potter strode out of the study and into his over-sized, and frankly lonely castle. He needed to walk, think over his issues and bring them to light and take his attention away from the silence.

In the past he had wanted company, people to care for him and be there… then he had decided he wanted time to himself, to be just Harr- Harold. He needed to cut those ties, the name only brought up bad memories.

Despite his early life crisis, he was lonely again…

He really didn't know what he wanted.

It was rough for him on this day, because all he could think of were his 'friends' who were probably going off to Hogwarts already, to deal with some new danger. He almost worried for them, as some prideful, or perhaps arrogant part of him concluded that they would fail without his help.

He briefly wondered who the Defense Teacher would be, probably another nut-job who couldn't tell the difference between a Flobberworm and a Dementor. He also had a feeling the Ministry would probably try something, as Dumbledore was also in their sights. Harold hoped they'd rein him in, before he could do too much harm.

Harold was wasting too much time on this, he had to do something productive… The only thing productive that he had done though, was develop his new abilities.

He still didn't understand them of course, one does not die and get superpowers… that isn't how it works, or how it used to work at least…

Things were… strange now. While magic had come naturally to him, these new powers were like nothing he had ever felt before.

Raw strength hummed beneath his skin, sensations ran through his veins, his brain shook with what felt like electricity.

He saw things differently, things shone before his eyes, metallic objects were highlighted and brought to his attention when he wasn't even trying.

It didn't take a genius to figure out his subconscious was pointing out resources for him, as every object was made or contained some sort of metal.

He had thought for a bit, about being a superhero, as he could see concealed weapons from blocks away… guns and knifes at least.

Harold found however, he was always too late. No matter the effort, he kept failing. He tried pulling attackers to him, tried inverting guns so they'd shoot the attacker, tried impaling criminals with their own blades, but nothing seemed to work.

In his attempt at vigilantism, he did discover another ability… he could fly, sort of, in a way…

It wasn't flying really, more like… pushing himself away from the ground. He could launch himself into the air, and into a direction or float for a bit, but it was more like gliding than anything else.

He had to wear metal lined boots and gloves in order to propel his limbs, allowing him to turn and steer himself, in a way.

While it was extremely dangerous, it was too amazing of an experience to not continue trying it…

Flying without a broom, freedom within the open air, even if he fell and broke his legs most of the time. That happened a lot, but it was worth it.

Harold still had other issues as well, mainly with controlling his existing abilities.

He was still having trouble with changing in and out of his 'metal form.' He was changing randomly, and it wasn't useful. Many a coffee cup got crushed that way, as his fingers would turn to solid steel, his grip becoming a painful vise.

He was starting to get some things under control however, and he felt a measure of pride at that. He wasn't anywhere near that… flaming thing's level of power, but he knew he could stop an auror or two, maybe more.

He hadn't had the chance really, and he really didn't know any good spells. He didn't think Stupefy would handle raiding Aurors, so he hoped his new powers could help in that regard.

He did have one problem though, and a question he needed an answer for. He had searched almost everywhere, from Gringotts to China for. (He got around.)

Even though he studied, searched, and went almost anywhere looking for an answer, he had yet to find one.

 **What, is a Bioterrorist?**

* * *

 **Areas Unknown**

 **(November 24th, 1995)**

* * *

" **Director, why… exactly have you called the Committee together?"** A hooded, suited man asked out into the silence of the circular room. The man didn't have a strong figure, his stature not tall nor muscular, but his entire form was intimating.

In the room besides himself, were a large community of leaders, from military groups and countries, all come together for one reason… to discuss the threat, of The Beast.

Before them, stood a battered and injured individual, who was leaning heavily against the podium they supplied. He took a breath, his eyes scanning over the assembled Committee, before he spoke.

"I'm sure you all know why we're here?" Tybalt Mordred, leader and director of the D.U.P spoke firmly to the crowd, only continuing when they all nodded.

"The Beast has returned… I don't know why, but we have an issue. Bioterrorists have reemerged, they're coming back, and the public will panic. We can not have people unaware of them."

The hooded man watched him carefully, before moving to allow a tall woman to step forward, her gaze criticizing him.

"Director, what exactly are you here for?" The woman asked, the crowd nodding in agreement. They all wanted to know why the outsider had come to them, demanding an audience.

"After facing the Beast myself, and having many of my troops slaughtered and my bases utterly destroyed… I think the people of the world deserve to know the truth, and have the right to prepare themselves against the Beast. I propose that we reverse Project Blank… " Mordred spoke out, his determination holding fast against the abuse the Committee spewed at him.

He knew they wouldn't take kindly to his suggestion, as they were the ones that actually approved Project Blank in the first place. They wouldn't want to admit they were wrong.

He knew, deep down, this was the right thing to do.

"Director… what do you think will happen if Project Blank is undone…" The original speaker, the hooded man asked him, anger obvious in the tone of his voice. Mordred figured the man wanted to kill him, but he assumed they wouldn't.

The Committee was too proper for murder, or so he thought.

"The world would panic, but we can control this. We can shape the world to our cause. But, I'll need troops in order to combat The Beast." Mordred stated, already knowing how his suggestion would go over. It would go horribly.

"Director, we have already transferred as many troops as we could… Where do you think you'll find officers willing to sacrifice their lives for you?" The man asked him, as he stepped closer to Mordred, who tried his hardest to resist running away. He grabbed hold of his courage, and spoke.

"I propose we use the Wake Up Call, and awaken the Bioterrorist gene. If we manipulate them, I can lure them under my command, much like Commander Augustine did back in Seattle. All I need is your appr-" Mordred tried to reason, only to stop as a whirling sound was heard.

He looked down then, and noticed a scarlet stain appear above his heart. He pressed a finger against it, only for it to come back bright red, the smell of dirty copper filling the air.

Mordred felt sick to his stomach, but he didn't have the time to so much as speak.

He fell to his knees, as another silenced shot flew into his left shoulder, dislocating it terribly and shattering the delicate bones.

Within seconds, another flew through his jaw, sending the flesh and bone flying through the air. Teeth and blood fell the carpeting, shards of bone scattering across the room, leaving an unpleasant stain and mess for the help to clean up, along with his bloody gums.

Another shot then, a hole blasted through his right eye, the flesh now raw and ripped to shreds. The eyeball nothing more than a vein and blood, leaving him half-blind to the world.

Mordred collapsed against the podium, gasping for painful breaths, as the hooded man chuckled. Within seconds, Mordred's heart stopped pumping, and his eyes went dark and empty.

Tybalt Mordred, former director of the Department of Unified Protection for almost a decade, was gun downed in cold blood by those he respected most.

"The committee had denied your request, and has decided to revoke your status as Director of the D.U.P. Good day." The hooded man said with a grinned, as he turned to the nearest person to him, a taller man with a navy blue hood. He whispered to him, a joyful feel to his tone. "Make sure the janitor sees to him… "

" **Of course President Clinton."**

* * *

 **Crimson Smith Institute for The Deranged and Dangerous, North America**

 **(9:37 PM, September 21st, 1995)**

* * *

 **Within a large chamber,** far beneath the Earth and from prying eyes, far beneath the asylum, a man stood surrounded by twelve highly technological pods.

Each pod was reinforced with thin, but sturdy sheets of magnesium with polymer glass behind it, preventing entry and escape from them.

Thick piping ran from the tall ceiling, trailing to each case, pumping gas and extreme coolant into each.

Frost covered almost everyone of them, blurring the details and interiors of the pods.

The man surveyed the pods, and stared firmly at the faces of ten different people, all encased within the pods, frozen for however long it took.

He wished they could awaken already, but it wasn't time…

There still were two left, hiding from them.

The man wasn't too worried, as he knew they couldn't stay hidden forever.

Crimson Smith had eyes and ears everywhere, and informants far and in-between. Anything they heard, would go straight to him. He knew almost everything that was happening across the Earth, including the new being… Conduit…

The man wasn't interested though, the boy didn't match their criteria…. Steel had no place among them, besides the forge, and before it… the blacksmith.

Hephaestus would slip up, and both he and Hestia would be found.

The collection would be complete finally, and boy did the world need them…

The flaming devil had come back, and the world was in grave trouble.

 **Mankind needed the Olympians.**

* * *

 **A Safe and Secret Location, for now.**

 **(Date Unknown)**

* * *

 **In a dark study,** a thin man rested his head in his hands, his gaze directed at nothing at all. He was deep in thought, but was brought out of it quickly and abruptly.

To his far right, on the corner of his desk, sat an aged and dusty telephone. He hadn't had a call on it in over a decade, as no one actually knew the number to it.

In truth, it didn't even work any more, but he held onto it. There was still one person that could reach him on it, and would when he was needed. He prayed to anything that would listen, that he wouldn't be needed. He knew that they were no longer among the living, and had feared what he would hear if he did receive a call.

Despite the odds, the destined to be forever silent phone, rung loudly and endlessly.

He almost dreaded to pick it up, his imagination running wild for what may be waiting on the other line, but he knew he needed to. He had to know.

With a fearful huff, he picked it up, and spoke to the dusty phone.

"Hello?"

"They're looking for you, I have foreseen it. They search every day and night, everywhere… " A serene and odd voice spoke through the phone, but he knew the phone wasn't working. She just needed a way into his mind.

"I… I thought you were dead, they said you went brain dead…" He asked, shock and concern flooding his voice. He faintly remembered the day, when they'd been told of her demise. He hadn't taken it the best way…

"I did… but not my inner mind. I see clearer than I ever have, I am no longer confined as I was, I am truly free. My time in the physical world is limited, but with it, I've chosen to warn you. They will find you in less than three months, I suggest leaving before then."

"I… I can't just up and leave! I've got a life here, a family!" He yelled, worry and fear bleeding into his voice, as he thought about everything he would lose if he just left.

"You won't for much longer, if you do not heed my words… Leave, before the fires consume you and those you hold dear."

"I… I will try." He muttered, his eyes drooping shut as he held the useless receiver to his ear. He would have to come clean with them, that would be the only way out, the only way they'd listen to him. The only way they'd leave everything behind, and come with him to who knows where…

" **Goodbye Hephaestus."**

* * *

 **Was it good? Bad? Let me know?**

A bit of time skips, but I found it necessary to progress from here.

I wrote the first bit, mainly as a look at the Light during Harold's absence, the reason behind the skip, is that they won't see him for a while. More than a year.

Harold has grown more powerful, but you have to remember, Infamous-Harold has been given free rein to train and perfect his powers as much he likes. Paragon-Harold would be restrained and distracted by the Order, and his "friends."

Infamous-Harold has no limits, thus why he's progressed so quickly.

The "Committee" is basically the Illuminati, think of them like that. A secretive organization of the world's best, strongest, and brightest, come together to rule the world in secret.

And now, we have the first example of the Butterfly Effect, Mordred's death.

Mordred's death is just a simple effect of the different routes of Steel Front. Things will be different between them, and different things will happen, leading Paragon and Infamous Harold's paths far from where they started, becoming stark opposites of each other.

Mordred's fate is just one little difference in the whole scope of things.

For those wondering, I'm not going to touch on mythology.

Crimson Smith Institute is an asylum that will be seen every once in awhile, and will be a big agitator of the conflict that will arise.

The "Olympians" aren't really gods, just something else. The names are Subject Titles for each of them, to dehumanize them. (It's like some real prisons, but where you're brainwashed and given a new identity, rather than a number…)

Imagine the group being like the Suicide Squad or The Thunderbolts, but if all of them went through the Winter Soldier's mental conditioning. A group of mindless, super-powered individuals forced to work, and no… the Asylum isn't run by the government.

It's a completely different group.

The Committee has no ties to Crimson Smith.

The missing "God" will be addressed fully later on, I'd think in chapter… 12, maybe sooner, maybe later, but this was a small look at him. He is in fact an existing HP character, but I'm giving him a backstory, as we know nothing about him really, not even his name.

Harold will be the focus next chapter, just in case you're growing a little sick of almost everyone else besides him.

Question for you all though, as I'm terrible at judging my own work. Do you think the story deserves to be M? Because I'm probably going to have a fair bit of violence in it, most likely on or over the level shown here. I don't think it does, but perhaps I'm mistaken. I'll leave it up for you all to decide.

Anyway, I don't have much more to say.

I'm done for now, talk to you all later.

 **-Darin**


End file.
